


Broken Piece of a Puzzle

by cyberiandemons



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Gen, Past Tim/Bertie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberiandemons/pseuds/cyberiandemons
Summary: As they stepped inside the bookstore, Tim’s eyes grew wide as he froze in place. There, right at the front of the store, was a display table bearing a sign containing cartoonish depictions of the moon being blown up and the words “WAR HERO OR WAR CRIMINAL?” in black monospace text.—100 Earth years after Tim blew up the moon, he returns to London to find that he has a bit of an interesting reputation.
Relationships: Gunpowder Tim & Ivy Alexandria
Comments: 11
Kudos: 151





	Broken Piece of a Puzzle

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this fic was inspired by conversations with my fiance.
> 
> Quick warning: it's pretty mild, but the fic does contain a quick reference to The Mechanisms Being Bad People Who Cause Havoc For Fun. Aside from that, the fic is pretty tame!

“Be gentle!”

Brian sighed. “I know, Nastya, I’ve landed Aurora thousands of times.”

“I know, I know. Sorry.”

Brian gently guided Aurora into one of the available spots in the expansive ship docking lot. With how limited space was, you had to pay for a permit to park in this lot; thankfully, they had managed to procure one before landing (although the one they had was, admittedly, splattered with a bit of blood). Aurora settled into the parking space, humming for a brief moment before shutting down. Brian looked back at Nastya. “How was that?”

“Acceptable.”

Down at the ship’s exit, Ashes looked at Tim as they stepped off of the Aurora. They stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his back. “Are you sure you’re alright being back here, Tim?”

Tim nodded, taking in a deep breath as he stepped out into the streets of London. “I think so, yeah. I mean, it’s been a century on this planet, right? It’s not like anybody will recognize me. Maybe nobody even knows what happened anymore.”

Jonny raised an eyebrow. “I mean, there had been one big moon, and now there are three small ones. Doesn’t really seem like the kind of thing people forget.”

Tim sighed. “Yeah, I guess.” 

Ivy walked over and took his hand. “It will be fine. I’m sure no one remembers that you did it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks, Ivy. And fuck you, Jonny.”

“I was just being realistic!” 

Though no small measure of worry was still living in Tim’s chest, he pushed that down and tried to focus on exploring the city. It had changed a lot in the past century—a  _ very _ small handful of the shops he had used to frequent were still in existence, and those had changed considerably. And there was something… strange, about being back on Earth. It was like there a piece that wasn’t fitting in with the rest of the puzzle. 

Tim was standing in a music shop and browsing their guitar section when the door flew open. He glanced over, frowning as he saw Ivy barrelling in. “Ivy?”

Ivy looked over, eyes wide. She rushed over to him and grabbed his arm. “Tim! Come here, you have to see this.”

“Okay? What’s—”

“Just come look!”

Tim allowed Ivy to drag him out of the shop. She began pulling him across the street, towards a bookstore. He frowned, glancing over at her. “Ivy, you know books aren’t really my thing.”

“You’re going to want to see this.”

“Okay…?” 

As they stepped inside the store, Tim’s eyes grew wide as he froze in place. There, right at the front of the store, was a display table bearing a sign containing cartoonish depictions of the moon being blown up and the words “WAR HERO OR WAR CRIMINAL?” in black monospace text. Ivy tugged him forward. They drew closer, and Tim read the words in smaller text beneath the sign’s heading. “On this day 100 years ago, our planet’s moon was blown up by a British soldier named Tim Roberts, immediately ending the England-Lunar War—and killing hundreds of thousands of soldiers and Lunar civilians. In the decades since, countless scholars have sought to answer the question: Is Tim Roberts a war hero or a war criminal?”

There were a selection of books on the display, all with different titles. A few had photographs of him on the cover. He picked two up and stared at them. The first was a candid shot that one of his friends had taken of him in university. The Tim on the cover looked young, carefree, happy. The other had a photograph of him in his military uniform, head and faced shaved, already looking miserable and defeated. The two men on the covers looked vastly, vastly different from each other. Neither looked like him anymore. 

Hearing noise to his right, he looked over to see Ivy scooping up one of each book on the display into a basket. “Ivy!”

Ivy froze, looking up at him like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “What! I’m curious. I want to know what people are saying about you. Aren’t you at least a little curious, Tim?”

“... Maybe a little.” He flipped the books in his hands over, reading the summaries on the back. The one that used a younger picture of him seemed to at least paint him a somewhat flattering light—the summary and excerpt conveyed that the author thought Tim was a flawed but ultimately sympathetic man. The other one, though, was quick to state that Tim was an amoral war criminal who blew up the moon because he was a bloodthirsty monster who wanted to end as many lives as possible, even if that meant ending his own life in the process. “Jesus,” he muttered. 

“I thought your birthday was in December.” 

Tim glanced up to see that Ivy was already looking through one of the books. “It is.”

“Huh. This book says August.”

“Ugh. I hate shoddy journalism.”

“Who’s Kathleen?”

“Uh…” Tim closed his eyes, searching his memory. “Oh! Cousin.”

“Oh.” Ivy screwed her face up. “This one says you were dating her.”

“Oh, gross.”

“Yeah, it says that you were childhood sweethearts who were madly in love before the war ripped you apart.”

“She died in a car accident a year before the war even started.” Tim set the books he was holding down and walked over, peering over Ivy’s shoulder. “Does it mention Bertie at all?”

“Uh… yeah, it says he was your ‘fully platonic best friend’. It claims that there’s no concrete evidence you two were in a romantic relationship, and that people who say you were don’t have anything to back them up. Oh, it even claims that Bertie was engaged to a woman named Matilda.”

“Matilda was just one of his friends from uni. And she was a lesbian!”

Ivy looked up at him, smiling. “See, Tim, I  _ have  _ to buy these. We can go through them together and you can rip them apart.”

Tim sighed, but a smile was slowly spreading over his face. “Yeah, that does sound like fun.”

When they reached the front counter, Ivy handed the basket to Tim to hold while she piled all of the books she had picked out on the counter. The cashier looked down at the pile and blinked before plastering on a smile as he looked up at Ivy. “Big Tim Roberts fan?”

Ivy tried to hide a laugh with a cough. “Something like that.”

The man scanned and bagged all of the books one by one. When he got to the one that had the picture of Tim in university on the cover, he paused, looking between Tim and the book. Tim just grinned, baring his teeth. The man stared for another moment before clearing his throat, scanning the book, and shoving it in the bag. “Uh, that’ll be £75.” 

“Pounds?” Ivy frowned. “I thought this planet was taking intergalactic credits by now.”

“Many places on the planet are, but England still uses the pound.”

Tim sighed. “Go fucking figure. Ivy, do you have any pounds on you?” Ivy shook her head. “Alright.” He drew his gun from his belt, pointing it at the cashier’s head. The cashier screamed. “Oh, shut up. I’m not going to shoot you as long as you let us leave with these books. Understood?” The cashier just nodded frantically. “Great! Thanks. Pleasure doing business with you, we’ll be sure to leave a review online. If you still do that in this time period.”

Tim kept his gun drawn as they left, only holstering it when they were exiting the building. “We should get back to the ship,” Ivy muttered. “I’m sure at least half of the other Mechanisms have done something illegal by now, so we should probably tell Nastya to hide Aurora somewhere so the authorities won’t link her to us and try to impound her.”

“Yeah, agreed.” 

When they arrived back to the ship, the first thing Nastya asked was “What did you do?”

Tim smiled. “Armed robbery. You should probably get out of here.”

“Already?” Nastya sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’re all terrible. Alright, I’ll go find a field or something. You know how to reach me.”

Several hours later, Nastya was hiding out in a forest in Wales while the rest of the crew of the Aurora was scattered in London hotel rooms that had been paid for with money procured through less-than-legal means. After a long night of drinking and bar fights, Tim sat curled up in bed with one of the books Ivy had purchased in his lap. He stared at the cover for several long minutes, looking at the face of that young university student and trying to find any trace of his current self. They looked completely different. Tim sighed. He was way too drunk for this. 

Still, Ivy had been right—he  _ was  _ curious. Tim began flipping through the book. As he did, he realized that there were several glossy pages in the middle that appeared to contain pictures. Eyebrows raised, he flipped forward to that section. His heart stopped. 

The first picture was a candid shot of him and Bertie, drunk and laughing and hanging off of each other. Bertie was pressing a kiss to his cheek. Tim stared at the picture for several long, long minutes. It had been so long since he had seen Bertie, he had nearly forgotten his face. He took time to trace his eyes over every inch of it, re-memorizing him. When he was finally able to move again, Tim very carefully ripped the picture out, folded it, and stuck it into his wallet. With that done, he closed the book, turned the light off, and laid down. That was enough for one night. 

As he laid in the dark, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about Bertie. The Tim in the picture with Bertie was a very, very different Tim. Bertie probably wouldn’t recognize him now—sure, he’d be able to see his face and know it was him; but the second they had any extensive conversation, Bertie would realize that the Tim Roberts he had fallen in love with was long gone. 

When they first arrived back on Earth, Tim had thought that something seemed off—like a piece of the puzzle wasn’t fitting. Now, he realized that the piece was him. He wasn’t the same Tim he had been before, and he never would be again. London had changed in his absence, but he had changed more. This city, this _planet_ , couldn’t be his home anymore, because the man who had lived here had died with Bertie. 

Tomorrow, he would go back out into the streets of a city he didn’t belong to anymore and treat it like any other planet they visited. He would drink and fight and probably even kill, because that was the person he had become. He thought, somewhat distantly, that he was probably supposed to be very bothered by this. Little bothered Tim anymore. The only thing that came close to bothering him was the knowledge that if Bertie knew him now, he wouldn’t love him anymore. But with how different he was, maybe he wouldn’t love Bertie anymore, either. That came close to bothering him, too. 

As he fell asleep, he thought of change, of the city, of his rapid descent into becoming a monster. Tim Roberts was dead. And tomorrow, Gunpowder Tim was going to do things that Tim Roberts would have been horrified by. 

He couldn’t wait to get started. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Tumblr at cyberian-demons.


End file.
